


Jaw

by okapi



Category: Think of England - K. J. Charles
Genre: Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-14 12:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20600894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/pseuds/okapi
Summary: "Back in my room, with that collar stud, I thought you were going to bring me off just by talking--"Daniel gasped with a laugh. "I will. Some day."K. J. Charles'Think of England. PWP.





	Jaw

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW 100 Fandoms challenge prompt 063. theory.

“Fuck,” groaned Curtis when they finally came up for air.

“Yes,” agreed Daniel.

Still feeling the ghost of the kiss on his lips, Daniel released his vise grip on Curtis’ hair. As a parting gift, he allowed teeth and a bit of stubble to scrape against Curtis’ jaw, then he raised himself to his full height and took four paces forward, moving in the swaying, cross-footed style of a drunken whore on cobblestones.

At the wall, Daniel performed a tight dancer’s pivot and slumped back. With his upper body braced, he curled his hips towards Curtis. The top half of his silk dressing gown gaped wide, revealing a smooth chest and dark nipples. It was a calculated pose, one struck to remind Curtis of the night they’d been caught in the library at Peakholme, their first night as lovers.

Daniel parted his lips, confident that they retained a bit of shine and bruise from the kiss, and looked at Curtis with hooded, hungry eyes.

“Good God, Daniel.”

The heat of Curtis’ stare on the silver ring in Daniel’s nipple was like a teasing puff of hot breath, and Daniel’s skin and muscles responded accordingly.

Daniel rolled up and off the wall in a serpentine fashion and asked in a low, rumbly voice,

“Remember that night in Peakholme?”

“Of course.”

Curtis sat facing Daniel in a plain wooden chair. He was naked save for a gentleman’s white evening shirt, unbuttoned and open. His hands hung by his sides, and his wrists were bound together by a length of ribbon which ran beneath the chair. His legs were slightly parted. His prick was framed by shirttails and just beginning to take an interest in the proceedings.

“Did you look in the mirror that night?” asked Daniel.

“Yes.”

“What did you see?”

“I thought the theory of this was that you were going to bring me off just by talking.”

“I didn’t say I was going to be the only one talking. Now, in the mirror, what did you see?”

“A dark angel between my legs.”

The words pierced Daniel’s cool façade like a thin blade between ribs. One corner of his mouth twitched, but he quickly recovered and and resumed his inquiry.

“What did you like most about that encounter?”

Curtis looked at the ceiling and shrugged. “I don’t know. All of it.”

Daniel tut-tutted. “You can do better than that.”

“Your fingers digging into my thighs. How you took my thrusts without recoiling. That thing you do with your throat…”

“’That thing’?”

Daniel made a show of toying with the sash of his dressing gown.

“Oh, I don’t know! You’re the bloody poet! Clenching, clutching, sucking. It makes me want to…”

“Fuck?”

“Yes!”

Daniel cast a smile in the direction of Curtis’ prick, now jutting proudly from a thatch of dark blond hair, then remarked, conversationally,

“Mirrors are good for more than blackmailing.” He began to pace in front of Curtis, swinging one tail of the sash in a circle. “And the folly?”

“I count myself blessed every time you have deigned put your exquisite mouth on me, Daniel.”

Daniel did an about-face, purposefully turning away from Curtis to hide the involuntary rise of colour in his cheeks.

The reply was so _him_.

Delightful, masterful, soldierly, chivalrous.

The warmth evaporated, and Daniel faced Curtis in full control of himself once more.

“I recall that you fucked my mouth.”

“You’ve a gorgeous one. And, Christ, the noises you made.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. At last, a lump of clay for his brickmaking! He took one step closer and spoke with rapidity.

“You like it when I whimper. When I need your prick so much, I embarrass myself.”

Curtis’ eyes shone. “Yes, for the sheer pleasure of it. And it also makes me feel less alone in my own condition.”

Daniel looked down at Curtis’ prick, engorged, a nice beefy pink. His mouth watered. “Which is hung like a donkey.”

“And, I think, built like a brick shithouse? Minus the block or three the war took, of course.”

“Indeed.”

If this theory was going to work at all, the less said about missing bricks the better. Daniel changed the subject by raising a hand to his chest and flicking the silver ring. Even greater than the physical pleasure it brought was the pride of the snake charmer as Curtis’ stare followed every minute movement.

He didn’t look away. He didn’t even blink.

“I enjoy sucking your prick almost as much as having you suck mine.”

Daniel’s words had no effect.

“Curtis!”

Curtis started, then, with obvious effort, tore his gaze away. “Hmm?”

“Do you like my arse?”

Daniel spun ‘round and looked back at over his shoulder, first at Curtis, then down at his own rump, which he wriggled.

Curtis laughed. “When you’re playing billiards, it’s difficult not to ogle. Edible.”

Daniel smiled, then his eyes narrowed. “Ever fancy more than a nibble?”

“Do you,” Curtis asked softly, bashfully, “ever fancy it?”

“I think about it,” admitted Daniel. “You’d be so thorough in your preparation of me.” He turned back to look Curtis squarely in the face, batting his eyelashes at the word ‘thorough.’”

“Filthy.”

Daniel huffed. “I assure you that were we to test this theory, my hole will be as clean as a—.”

Curtis gave a long wolf whistle, and Daniel laughed.

“You’d have to talk me through it,” said Curtis. “Not exactly my line of country.”

“You think that would be a hardship for me? Me, who could, what was it, ‘jaw the hind legs off a donkey’?”

“I don’t think it’s my legs you’re trying to jaw, but I’m a quick study, all the same.”

Daniel laughed again, but when he caught sight of Curtis’ flagging erection, his expression turned serious. “You’d put your fingers in me?” he asked pointedly.

“I’m a soldier. I follow orders.”

“Your tongue, too?”

Curtis raised an eyebrow. “You’d fancy that?”

Daniel tried, and failed, to quash his own mounting arousal. “Yes,” he said, then added, “Though I’d have to take the proper precaution…”

Curtis’ brow furrowed.

“…of burying my face in a pillow to muffle the screams.”

Curtis smiled with impish glee. “You’d scream?”

“Guaranteed.”

“Then I’ll do it for _hours_,” Curtis vowed with mock solemnity. “He also serves who stands and licks. And laps. And probes. And tastes.”

The noise Daniel made was a snort followed by a hollow, deep ‘oh!’ as images and sensations flooded his mind and body. “What a filthy mouth you have, my Viking.” His eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, and he rolled his hips involuntarily.

“As long as I could knead, too,” added Curtis, his eyes falling to Daniel’s waist and below.

“I’m certain we’d make time for everything,” murmured Daniel. He needed to move things along. “Until, of course, you got too impatient and wanted to fuck me right away. Mount me. Spread me with that huge cock of yours. Don’t you want to see it disappear inside me? Feel me squirming beneath you? Bury your big, fat, delicious, Viking prick in my tight, wet heat?”

“God, Daniel. The things you say. What you do to me. It’s all obscene.”

Curtis’ prick was hard again. Good. Now all Daniel had to do was keep it that way.

He circled Curtis, stopping just behind his left shoulder. “And when I was ready, you’d thrust. And thrust. Hard and deep. Faster. Stretching my hole ‘til it tears—”

“No!”

Daniel silently cursed himself. Bloody imbecile!

“I would never hurt you, Daniel, not even in theory, and if I made you bleed, I’d never forgive myself. If I’m too large, then I won’t even consider—”

“Of course not, of course not,” said Daniel soothingly. “You’d never hurt me, never.”

How to recover the moment, the mood, the passion?

Uncomfortable silence seemed to hang in the air too long. Daniel’s panic grew.

But then he was reminded that in this little game, as in everything else, he was not alone.

“Have you ever fancied,” Curtis swallowed then coughed, “the roles reversed?”

Daniel melted.

Oh, what a precious creature!

“Yes,” he replied swiftly, matching Curtis’ nervous, almost inaudible tone. “I didn’t want to suggest it because…”

It was a white lie better left without embellishment. Daniel leaned in and whispered in Curtis’ ear.

“…I wasn’t certain you’d like it, like me to take you.”

Daniel smiled. The full-body shudder that went through Curtis at the word ‘take’ was a little gift tied with a ribbon bow.

By Jove, he’d caught his hare!

“I would take infinite pains with you.”

“I know. Nowhere safer than your hands.”

“But how safe is my tongue? Inside you, that is.”

Curtis shifted in the chair. “I don’t rightly know,” he stammered.

“Would you like to find out?”

“Yes.” The reply came joyously quick and sure. “God, yes.”

“It’s soft and warm and wet and, like me, very curious and very eager to make you moan.”

Curtis shifted again. Daniel saw gluteal muscles clench and release, and his own mirrored the movements.

“And I think you mentioned something about hours?” he persisted.

Curtis chuckled. “I knew that would come back to bite me.”

“No biting,” said Daniel firmly, side-stepping even the slightest suggestion of violence, he wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice. “Just licking. Lapping. Tasting. As long as you want.”

“As long as _you_ want.”

“Well, that won’t be that long. I don’t have your ample reserve of patience, my dear soldier. I’ll soon want to lay you down and spread your cheeks and nudge you with my prickhead.” Curtis grunted. “But don’t fret. By that time, you’ll be slicked and stretched to perfection. I’ll slide it in, bit by bit, so very carefully and gently that you hardly feel it. Just like,” Daniel schooled his voice to its lowest, my seductive register, “_threading a hard stud through a tiny hole_.”

“Fuck! Daniel, fuck!”

Daniel peered over Curtis’ shoulder.

Perfect. The gorgeous Viking prick was leaking.

He positioned himself directly behind Curtis and gripped the back of the chair with both hands.

Time to put the man out of his misery.

“And then I’ll thrust—"

Feeling inexplicably inspired, Daniel halted mid-thought and leaned forward.

“Maybe we should go back to Peakholme to do this.”

“Why, in heaven’s name?” groaned Curtis.

Daniel grinned a wicked grin.

“Because I want a large, well-polished mirror, the better to see my lover’s face when I sink into his hot, little hole."

“Daniel!”

Daniel suddenly realised his prick was stiff and screaming for attention. He ignored it and marched on.

“My lover’s tight, wet, gloriously stretched, profanely slicked—”

“Virginal,” interjected Curtis, ever so softly.

Daniel bit his lip hard.

It shouldn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter a bit. In fact, if anything it should dampen Daniel’s ardour, but the deuce if the word didn’t set his whole being aflame.

Like a Guy Fawkes’ effigy.

Daniel’s voice became a near-demonic growl as he shoved at the chair, the wooden legs thumping against the floorboards in time to his words.

“And I’ll thrust.” Thump! “And thrust.” Thump! “And I won’t stop. Not until I’ve pissed every last drop in me in you.”

“Please, Daniel, _please_!”

Now it wasn’t just Daniel rocking the chair.

Close, so close.

Daniel felt himself going a bit mad.

He released his grip on the chair long enough to tear the silk sash from his waist. The dressing gown fell open to reveal his own neglected prick, throbbing, dripping, howling for a single, careless caress.

Not yet!

“And then, my handsome bride, I’ll hang the bloody sheet out for all the world to see that you are mine!”

A strangled cry filled the room.

And, hopeless imbecile that Daniel was, in his half-wild, half-crazed, thoroughly distracted state, he almost missed it!

Almost.

Daniel’s eyelids were heavy, wanting to close of their own accord, but he forced them to stay open, forced himself to look over Curtis’ quivering torso.

There was his reward: a jerk of hips and three milky spurts issuing from a handsome prick in quick succession, soiling skin and wiry hair and shirt cloth.

“Oh, Archie.”

“Daniel,” Curtis sobbed, his chest heaving. “Was I good?”

“You were perfect.” Daniel still had a white-knuckle grip on the back the chair. He leaned down and nuzzled at the side of Curtis’ neck. “Well done, soldier. Not just a theory. Not at all.” He pressed his lips to the ridge of Curtis’ shoulder, licked sweat-damp skin, then took a deep breath and launched himself forward.

Daniel stumbled the four steps to the wall, turned, and sank to the floor. He landed like a rag doll, boneless and exposed, legs splayed.

Curtis gave a shout and, with one yank of his hands, snapped the ribbon in two. Then he launched himself to the floor on his hands and knees.

Daniel watched, mesmerised, as Curtis crawled towards him; his mouth was hanging open, his nostrils flaring wide, his eyes glittering like those of a beast about to devour a helpless morsel.

“Fuck?” pleaded Daniel, the last word he would utter for quite a while.

“Oh, yes,” said Curtis. He licked his lips, then loosened his jaw.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
